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2004-10-14 - 7:29 a.m.

If you've found this site from Top 100 Diaries at Diaryland � you may have seen the brief description of my diary which is, "Born with 2 teeth, grew up in a funeral home, had a secret baby out of wedlock, and loves to sniff sparrows." While this may be a brief description of my life in general, it is not necessarily a brief description of my diary. So to dispel any claims of false advertisement, I feel that I must elaborate � if only for this entry.

BORN WITH 2 TEETH Yes, I was indeed born with two front lower teeth. Teeth present at birth are found in about one out of three thousand newborn infants. Despite the odds, I actually know of someone else who was born with teeth! My little teeth were promptly removed from my little mouth and I spent an entire childhood without any lower front teeth until my permanent ones came in. According to a website I stumbled across on this topic, it says this about children born with teeth:

Excommunicated people, unbaptized children, criminals, babies born with teeth, witches, magicians, and the seventh son of a seventh son can all become vampires.

Me and the seventh son of the seventh son don't really seem to have had a say in the matter. Well, I guess in the grand scheme of things, being a vampire here in Northern Kentucky wouldn't be the weirdest thing you'd ever seen.

GREW UP IN A FUNERAL HOME This is also a statement of truth. I lived (WITH my parents) in the upstairs of B.J.Meyer Funeral Home from my very beginnings in 1973 to 1977. I have extraordinarily vivid memories from this time in my life and can remember on many occasion having to be quiet on account of a funeral in progress. Sometimes I would peek into the open caskets before a funeral and stare at their waxy hands often clutching rosaries. At 3 and 4 years old it is pretty much safe to say that I just thought they were sleeping � but with lots of ceremony and gathered crepe fabric. My grandfather was in the funeral business back then and my mother's brother has taken over the age-old family business that was founded in 1884 as a livery service involving horse drawn hearses (say that 6 times fast!).

I once contemplated on entering this line of work, but opted against after reading a list of course descriptions within the College of Mortuary Science. I think it was "Facial Reconstruction 101" that sent me screaming in the opposite direction. I'll stick to clay and plaster of paris, thank you very much...

HAD A SECRET BABY OUT OF WEDLOCK For the most part this is an honest account. There were a few people, such as my Grandmother who did not know for an extended period of time, but they know now, so it isn't really much of a secret anymore. It is generally known throughout my circle of friends, family and acquaintances that I had a baby 11 years ago when I was barely 20 that I made adoption plans for. I am very active in the adoption community and do volunteer public speaking at local high schools and pregnancy centers on behalf of a non-profit adoption promoting organization. You can read more about this subject at this site if you're interested. I promote adoption as a viable and healthy alternative to abortion.

I LOVE TO SNIFF SPARROWS Yes, I love to sniff sparrows, particularly my pet house sparrow, Ava. I've had her since May 30, 1997 when, as a naked little hatchling, she fell out of her nest and landed in my life (to make a long story short). I did extensive research on how to take care of her with the plans of releasing her into the wild once she was able to fly. However, after a visit to the vet I was informed that house sparrows were not protected under any laws because they are not native to the United States. I could legally keep her as a pet. After much deliberation I opted to keep her in my care where she would always be safe and fed and in a controlled climate. This "commoon" little house sparrow is the most extraordinary little creature I ever could have imagined.

On the rare occasion that I have her "captured" in my hands I thoroughly enjoy pressing the back of her wings and her feathers up to my nose and giving her a big sniff over. She hates this and will fiercely kick her little stick legs trying to free herself, but I just can't help myself. There is nothing sweeter than the smell of sparrow feathers (except for my little son's face) � a piece of information which generally remains unknown to the average person. She used to go to work with me every day in her cage (she LOVES riding in the car and can ride the turns on her perch or swing better than the greatest of surfers). She's traveled all over the place with us � to Cumberland, KY, Columbus, OH, Millersburg, OH, Louisville, KY, and Les Cheneaux Islands, MI. On long trips before we had the baby we would let her out of her cage and she'd sleep in my hair or fly from my shoulder to William's shoulder � or to the steering wheel. At night she sleeps in a little fleece tent that hangs on a hook on the inside of William's closet. If we are talking too loud while she's trying to sleep, we will hear her "clicking" at us from the other side. This little creature has enriched our lives more than we could have ever imagined. I could really write a book with all of the stories about her.

So there you have it � always something more, never anything less.

the past - the future

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